Travel sucks

Visas, terrorists, aeroplanes, taxicabs, tour guides... Travelling just can’t get any worse these days – unless you’re a Turk.

Why would anyone put themselves through the humiliation of travel? You spend a bunch of money and time going through the degradation of visas, security checks, airlines, queuing, language barriers, constant communication breakdown, endless acquisition of tickets to go anywhere and see anything, closing/opening/meeting/departure/arrival times you’re always rushing to, mosquitoes, illness, sleeplessness, people constantly trying to rip you off with insincere gestures of friendship, and all for what? A bunch of lame photos, stupid souvenirs, and endless inane anecdotes which people will only politely feign interest in listening to, along with the vague sense afterwards that you can’t really tell if it was all your own lived experience or just an endless succession of impersonal images you could have just seen in a book or on TV.

But if you’re not from a Western country, travel is that much worse. Let’s face it, travel today is designed for white people. Everybody else has to stand in different lines at airports and form degrading long visa queues outside embassies and consulates in the attempt to try and prove they’re not terrorists, expected to produce bank statements, electricity bills, declare property and possessions, have somebody in the country of destination who can invite and vouch for them, and generally be stripped of all dignity in front of sadistic visa ogres who treat visa applicants like they’re the only thing they will ever get the chance to act superior to, thus relishing the task at hand. So unless you’re a Westerner, you’re guilty until proven not-guilty-yet. Oh, and then you have to pay a bunch of money when they give you that all-important official stamp that declares you now have the honour of going to their precious little country. And if you’re a Westerner? Usually either no visas needed, or just a quick visa that could be got at the airport. Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Rich White Currency Spender, you’re our biggest industry!

That’s not to say that we Turks often don’t deserve rigorous visa procedures. Unfortunately, for every decent Turk who travels according to the rules, there are a bunch of others who readily export our misplaced impish genius for cutting-corners-through-duplicitous-schemes over to the host country, and generally prove such a nuisance that some sort of rigid screening and filtering process becomes inevitable. And who suffers? The decent ones. So the lowest common denominator becomes the procedural starting point for the whole visa process. Add to all this the further doucheness of terrorism, which has achieved nothing except making the whole world a much more annoying place for everyone. Terrorism will never liberate Palestine or Iraq, bring about a golden age of Islamic prosperity, or even ever have more of a statistical chance of killing you than death by donkey kick. All it’s done is augur in a shitty age of worldwide inconvenience. Thanks for that, fuckos.

So what does all that add up to? It adds up to me in transit at Charles de Gaulle airport, standing in my socks at the head of a long queue of depressed people who resembled convicts, passing in and out of an incontinent trigger-happy metal detector, waiting for some Algerian guy to finish inspecting my shoes, trying to pick up coins I spilled while emptying everything from my pockets (cargo pants are no longer convenient travel attire), taking my laptop in and out of its bag, and suspiciously wiping the sweat from my brow as I stood before a mini-inquisition about why I was where I was before I was there and for what purposes (they only asked me these questions because I had a Turkish passport – everyone else was white, innocent, and fluffy, like bunnies), before boarding my plane – which, by the way, was sprayed with disinfectant by flight attendants with fake smiles when entering France from Turkey and Mexico, but not vice versa, even though it was the same airline (I won't name names, just suffice it to say that the initials of the airline in question are: AIR FRANCE)

So is there nothing salvageable from the whole travel thing? Maybe I’ve been a little harsh. After all, the first five minutes when you decide to go somewhere and the last five minutes when it’s all finally over are both pretty sweet moments. Unfortunately it’s just that large-ish middle bit that sucks. But a peppy voice inside me says: “Wait a minute, travel expands your horizons, you meet new people, gain experiences and memories that last a lifetime, you see incredible things and appreciate your own country more, while at the same time overcoming your own prejudices, and you realize that despite superficial differences, we’re all really the same, floating away on this crazy spaceship we call Mother Earth!” Wrong. That stuff is only believed by the sort of people who think travelling makes a person interesting ipso facto. It doesn’t. The similarities encountered make travel boring, because you realize that – despite a few opulent monuments – everywhere and everyone is the same, while the differences encountered make travel annoying, because you’re bummed that such trivial things should inconvenience you so much, thereby bolstering extant prejudices rather than dispelling them.

So what’s the solution? Stay put. There are a lot more interesting things that are already all around you than all the cheap and trivial surface novelties that are stumbled upon while travelling. Plus you’ll spare all of us the six megabyte mass email full of uncompressed photos of you standing next to stupid statues with a sheepish grin. It’s worth you not-travelling just for us to not-receive that.

Istanbul dos and don’ts: tips for the neophyte

For all you brave souls who have already stuck it out in Istanbul for some time, you have probably learnt by now how to get into the swing of things – well, some of you must have anyway. These words of advice go to the uninitiated who might need some tips on how not to look like a deer caught in floodlights upon arrival.

DO learn some basic words of Turkish before you arrive. It will make your life a lot easier if you can at least say “post office” in Turkish rather than have to make a fool of yourself as you keep licking the tips of your fingers, slapping your hands, and imitating an airplane, all on the off-chance that the dopey shop assistant will get “stamped envelope” from your little charade and then deduce “post office” from that, let alone figure out where one is. Nobody deduces anything around here, so learn the basic words – and DO work on pronunciation.

DO NOT think if you speak English really loud and slow that people will understand you. They’ll only think that you’re shouting at them and respond by shouting back at you in Turkish. Before you know it, a harmless little awkward moment has quickly degenerated into a street brawl that would take pride of place as yet another anecdote in the Great Moments of Cultural Misunderstanding Hall of Fame.

DO give money to beggars if you feel like it; don’t if you don’t. Nobody will think you a saint for doing so or a cheapskate for not.

DO NOT give the people you’re with an explanation outlining your reasons for giving money or not to a beggar. Nobody’s interested in your ethical concerns or your sociological theorems on societal reconstruction, because nobody is interested in beggars. Even Mother Teresa preferred the company of lepers, so just do what you have to do and walk on.

DO give constructive criticism, or tell us something we don’t know… like how unemployed artists in your country get a cash allowance from the government, or how you have automated, self-washing, transportable public toilets that are so clean you can actually use them.

DO NOT keep whining on and on about how public toilets stink, how people stare at you, how your private space is violated, how the electricity in your place keeps getting cut, or how cab drivers go too fast. Some unpleasant things you just have to learn to live with – like back hair, or North Korea. So accept that you’re NOT in your pristine little clockwork Legoland anymore. It’s the third world, deal with it.

DO try and fit in by learning your way around, picking up some of the language, and interacting with locals, even if conversations rarely go beyond “yes pliz,” “hello my friend!” “velkom, velkom” and “tea?”

DO NOT assume you will fit in by wearing a shalvar and/or any type of headgear or clothes that can be bought in the Grand Bazaar, thinking you’ll look exotic or oriental. You will not only still look like a foreigner, you’ll also look like a joke and a sucker who’s capable of paying 20 bucks for a flimsy souvenir. Also stay away from cutesy theme t-shirts with Turkish flags or “I Heart Istanbul” drivel on it. Save that stuff for the slide show back home.

DO read up on Turkish history, culture, religion and politics when you can. Books by Lord Kinross, Bernard Shaw, Andrew Mango, Stephen Kinzer, Andrew Wheatcroft are a good (albeit mainstream) start. Bookstores with foreign-language books abound in Beyoglu, most notably Homer (0212-249 59 02, or 0212-292 42 79), Robinson Crusoe (0212-293 69 68) and Pandora (0212-243 35 03 – also check out their Books On Turkey catalogue).

DO NOT ask if Turks can have four wives, whether they can drink alcohol, if women are allowed to leave the house, if Turkish is different from Arabic, and how you thought everyone rode camels before you got here. All you’ll get are offended people with defensive answers like “this isn’t Saudi Arabia” that’s always followed by a long-winded, incoherent monologue on Ataturk. So read up and try not to deserve being treated like an idiot.

DO try street food in Turkey. Kokoreç, döner, durum, pide, lahmacun, kumpir, midye tava, çiğ köfte, midye dolma (all best tried at the Fish Market – or Balık Pazarı – off Istiklal Avenue in Beyoğlu) are all so good, and we don’t care what the EU and its holier-than-thou standards have to say about it. If it was up to them they’d have us all eating hospital food through an organic sterilized straw. Besides, what doesn’t kill you only makes you stronger.

DO NOT try street food in Turkey if you’re going to ask a bunch of inane questions like “What is it made of?” or “Has it been washed?” or “Will anything happen if I eat this?” You either eat street food or you don’t. If you simply must ask, and receive an answer you don’t like, DO NOT scrunch your face, say “yuck,” and then laugh like it was funny. It’s not funny, it’s obnoxious, and that gesture makes you an instant jackass.

DO take private lessons if you are serious about learning Turkish. Really, this isn’t French or Italian. It’s a language related to Mongolian and you need all the help you can get.

DO NOT sprinkle your speech with unnecessary Turkish words if you do not speak Turkish, unless of course you have to order a doner kebab and the only words you can use are “doner" and "kebab.” Saying “Merhaba” or “Inshallah” or “Gule Gule” just for the sake of saying them – because they’re the only words you know – does not make you worldly, cute, or knowledgeable. It’s uncalled for, and only slightly less annoying than finding bubble gum in your hair.

DO ask for directions, but only if you want to strike up a conversation with someone.

DO NOT ask for directions if you actually need directions. People are ashamed to say “I don’t know” and often give an answer out of embarrassment, not because they actually know the answer. So unless you’re trying to figure out how to get to the next wild goose chase, forget it.

DO wipe that sheepish smile and smug “Look at me, I’m in the exotic orient!” expression off your face. You may as well be wearing a “Pluck me, I’m a plump chicken!” sign on your forehead. And if you happen to be one of those who closes their eyes and lifts their chin up toward the sky and smiles to yourself at that magic instance when the sun hits your face and the call to prayer sounds out and the cacophony around you transmogrifies into a mesmerizing moment of inspiration… then don’t be, because you’re annoying the living shit out of everyone and all they want to do is punch you.

DO NOT do that, not in public. I can’t stress this enough.

DO mention at some point to a Turk you just met that you’ve seen Midnight Express. Go ahead, make our day. We LOVE it.

DO NOT ever mention that you don’t think Turkey will ever join the EU. We know that already, so what does that make you, Nostradamus? DO tell us something we don’t know instead please, like how the EU is a joke we’d be better off without anyway.

DO go ahead and give me your clichéd commentary on how lovely my country is, how you think we’re so “human,” and how your people could learn so much from mine.

DO NOT assume that I give a shit, unless of course you want to buy something from me.

DO spend your money wisely. Those crappy hubble-bubbles, tea sets and leather sandals at the Grand Bazaar which you were thinking of buying (I optimistically use the past tense) are actually idiot filters. If you’ve resisted thus far, you’re not a total moron.

DO NOT act like you don’t have any money. Just be honest and say “no” to those trying to sell you something you don’t want. Seriously, who travels to foreign countries without any money except Gypsies? And I know you’re not a Gypsy, because Gypsies don’t buy Time Out. Gypsies have better things to do, like sing and dance and make fun of people like me and you.

DO tell me how you think those little water pipes in the toilet bowls that wash your ass after you take a dump are great, because they really are.

DO NOT ever refer to Turkey or Istanbul as a “bridge” of any sort, not between East and West, not between Islam and Christianity, Europe and Asia, modern and traditional... no “bridges” no “gateways” no “meeting points”. If we wanted trite metaphors we could just watch CNN. So no banalogies please.

DO listen and learn from the experiences of others who have lived here and who will be more than happy to be given the opportunity to sound like been-there/done-that smartasses for the sake of your edification and their self-gratification.

DO NOT listen to arrogant cynical tosspots who think they can get away with telling you what you should or should not do. Oh, wait a minute…